


you're good for my soul, it's true

by t_hens



Series: Valentine's Day Fic Celebration [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 09:23:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17743226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_hens/pseuds/t_hens
Summary: ways Dan has helped Phil cope with his anxiety over the years.





	you're good for my soul, it's true

**Author's Note:**

> based on the prompt 'snippets of tiny ways dan helps phil with his anxiety over the years, from the beginning to now' by anon
> 
> beta by [fourthingsandawizard](http://fourthingsandawizard.tumblr.com)

Phil’s always known he’s a bit of an odd bird. He had never been popular in school, or anywhere, really. He was always different enough that, though he was fairly liked, he didn’t have flocks and flocks of friends. And maybe that was better, he would reason with himself. Better to have a few close friends that were real than hoards of fake ones.

That was what made meeting Dan so astounding. Out of all the people in the world, and all the people online who followed Phil, Dan was the one that stuck out above them. Dan doesn’t believe in fate, and though he likes to tease Phil about believing so strongly in it, neither can deny how lucky they are to have met the other.

The scary part about meeting Dan is being unsure if he will be enough. Dan has said on multiple occasions how much he likes Phil, the real and not-putting-on-a-show-for-the-camera-Phil, but he’s still anxious. Maybe Dan will change his mind, and then Phil would be left with a broken heart and the empty hole in his chest that never quite feels full unless he is talking with Dan.

By the time Dan’s train arrives, Phil is a mess, his heart pounding in his chest so loudly, he’s surprised he’s not alerting the people around him. The palms of his hands are still sweating, no matter how many times he wipes them off on his jeans. He glances at the arrival and departure board for what felt like the millionth time. Dan will be here soon, and Phil is definitely freaking out. 

Once Dan is in front of him, Phil feels like he’s going to faint. His blood pressure feels like it’s through the roof, and as he reaches forward to hug Dan, his hands are shaking more than just the normal tremble he usually has.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Phil says, arms still holding Dan to him. If he doesn’t let go, he can’t see the disappointment that surely is prominent on Dan’s features.

Eventually, Dan starts to pull away and Phil hangs his head, ready for rejection. What he’s not expecting is for Dan’s fingers to tilt his chin up a little so they have to make eye contact.

“I’m happy I’m here, too.” Dan takes stock of him for a moment, eyes roaming over him like he just can’t quite believe Phil is real. “You’re shaking. Are you okay?” His fingers delicately brush over Phil’s twitching fingers, making Phil itch to hold his hand.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little keyed up,” Phil laughs a little breathlessly. 

Dan doesn’t reply, just smiles up at Phil with his big doe eyes, and Phil feels something pull deep in his chest.

“Coffee? There’s a Starbucks right around the corner.” 

Dan silently agrees and Phil leads the way.

Starbucks is quiet and fairly empty, making it easy for them to snag the comfy couch in the corner. Phil orders them drinks, despite Dan’s protests, and carries them over to the table after his name is called. 

Hands still trembling, he sloshes a little of the overly sweet coffee over the rim of the cup, making small splatters across the floor. His heart drops, cheeks flushing, and he tries to hurry to the table, only resulting in more spills.

Dan stands when Phil approaches the table and helps him set the drinks down. The distress Phil feels is evident in all of his body language: his fingers that won’t stay still, the color high on his cheeks, his eyes shifting around quickly at the mess he’d made on the floor and at the coffee mugs slowly leaving a small puddle on the table. Dan pulls him down on the couch and takes his hands in his own.

“Hey, it’s no big deal. It’s just a little spilled coffee.” He rubs his fingers almost absentmindedly across the back of Phil’s hand, and the effect is almost instantaneous. Phil can feel his heart beat start to slow almost as soon as Dan starts talking to him; his attention is focused on the kind, beautiful boy in front of him.

“I’m gonna get a rag. Just stay right here, okay?”

He doesn’t give Phil a chance to respond, just stands and asks the barista for a rag. Phil sits in awe as he watches Dan clean up a spill that he created. When he’s done, Dan sits back down and takes a drink from his cup, radiating nonchalance. 

“You didn’t have to do that. But thank you. I’m sorry I’m such a mess right now, I promise it’s just cause I’m nervous. Well, I’m excited, but you know…” He trails off, unsure if Dan _does_ know what he means, but Dan saves him face by nodding eagerly.

“I do. I feel the same way. I’m so nervous, I could puke.” Dan had grabbed Phil’s hand again when he sat down and was running his fingers over the top again. It seemed like a gut reaction, to reach out and touch Phil and comfort him. Phil links their hands together, gently squeezing.

“But you’re excited, too, right?” he asks, hiding behind the curtain of dyed fringe.

“Of course I’m excited, too, you dingus.”

Fondness radiates out of Dan, and Phil can feel himself start to slump back into the couch, tension and anxiety finally making a slow exit from his body. It’s as if Dan’s touch is some sort of salve for the burning anxiety that is constantly consuming him. He feels like a breath of fresh air Phil didn’t know he needed until Dan was there in front of him, offering him relief.

“I’m glad,” Phil says, giving Dan’s hand another squeeze, already in love with the way that it fits perfectly in between his.

***

It’s a year later, and much to Phil’s disbelief, things are even better than they had started out. Except now Dan lives in the same city as him, always willing and eager to hop in a cab and come to Phil’s new apartment in the city at the drop of a hat.

There are small pieces of Dan all around what Phil has mentally started to referring to as ‘their place.’ Shoes and games, an odd sock or t-shirt mixed in with Phil’s laundry. It feels right, like Dan had always belonged in that space, right next to Phil.

Being so close also means Phil is unable to hide the all-consuming anxiety attacks he has sometimes. 

Dan witnesses one after he comes over one night, depositing his laundry on top of the washer and searching the apartment for a basket to put Phil’s dry clothes in.

“You know, all your clothes just sit in the dryer and wrinkle if you don’t take them out,” Dan’s voice comes from somewhere toward the bedroom.

“You know I don’t care, right?” Phil calls back, chuckling a little.

Dan doesn’t reply and Phil shrugs, going back to the episode of X-Files he had been half watching before Dan arrived.

“Uh, Phil?” Dan calls out, the unease in his voice making nerves flood Phil’s entire being.

“Yeah?” Phil makes his way to the washer and dryer where he could hear Dan moving things around. “What’s up?” he asks, unsure if he really wanted to know.

“Well,” Dan turns and shows Phil the load of whites he had recently washed, all a pale blue thanks to the random navy sock laying on top of his laundry, tiny shrimps staring up at him innocently.

Phil just gapes at the ruined clothes for a second, choking on the panic starting to rise up in his throat.

“Oh, god! Everything is ruined!” He’s beginning to spiral, he can feel his hands start to shake and his breath start to come in short, sharp bursts that don’t really do anything for him. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dan cooes, setting the basket down and pulling Phil close to him. “It’s okay. Take a couple of deep breaths.”

Phil tries, and only manages to gasp several times instead. Dan holds him tight for a moment before moving back in front of him so that Phil has to look him in the eyes.

“It’s okay. It’s just clothes. We can get you some more. Or, you know, these don’t even look that bad.” He gestures to the sky blue t-shirts and boxers laying at their feet. “At least it wasn’t pink, right?”

Phil gives a wet chuckle, the tears that he had been trying to keep inside finally spilling over.

“I just wanted to be able to do something like a real adult without it going wrong.” He gives out a small sob, and Dan pulls him back into his chest.

“Hey. Shhh,” he says quietly into Phil’s neck, where he can actually reach. “This is all new and it’s okay to mess something up. I burned a pan of pasta the other day. Like, it was fully on fire.”

He gives a surprised bark of laughter, leaning back and wiping his eyes. 

“How did you manage that?”

“No one tells you that you need to add water when you make it!” Dan squeaks.

Phil laughs loudly, and wipes his nose where it’s starting to drip. It’s not especially attractive or sexy, but Dan smiles wide at having made Phil laugh and he reaches up to wipe away a stray tear.

“See? No one is great at this stuff. Probably not even _real_ adults.”

Phil doesn’t say that his mum has probably has never ruined a load of laundry, or set a pot of pasta on fire, but gives a small chuckle and hugs Dan.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I get so crazy sometimes.”

Dan’s face falls a little. “You’re not crazy, Phil. It’s okay to not always be put together. Shit happens.”

“I know,” Phil says without much conviction. “It’s just not very fair that you always have to pick me up after I have a melt down.”

He captures Phil’s lips in a quick, but intense, kiss. “You know I don’t think of it like that. You help me when I’m upset and freaking out, and I do the same for you. That’s what you do when you love someone.”

Warmth floods Phil’s body and he nods demurely. He lets Dan lead him back into the lounge where Phil curls up next to him, Dan’s laundry forgotten.

***

Phil pushes his fringe off of his forehead for what feels like the millionth time. He’s hot and feeling a little bit stressed, the looming deadlines they have all staring him straight in the face, and he can’t help but feel a little claustrophobic. The strands almost immediately flop back in front of his face, and he huffs out an annoyed sigh.

“Wha’s wrong?” Dan asks, not taking his eyes off of his laptop.

“My stupid hair won’t stay out of my face, and it’s like _burning up_ in here. How are you wearing a jumper right now?”

Phil stands abruptly and works on pulling his own jumper off and discarding it on the floor. When it’s off, he stands there and looks at it before huffing again. He pushes his hair back and wants to scream a bit.

The sound of Dan’s laptop being shut and sat down on the coffee table and then the soft padding of footsteps shouldn’t surprise him, but when Dan physically turns Phil to face him and pull him into his arms, he still startles a bit.

He goes into the embrace quickly, though, never one to turn down affection, especially when he’s feeling so flustered.

“Wanna take a bath?”

Dan doesn’t ask what’s wrong because by now he knows that sometimes Phil just gets like this. There isn’t always a driving force behind his anxiety; sometimes it’s just a bad day, and Phil’s brain just won’t play ball.

“Yeah,” he says into the crook of Dan’s neck, where he likes to nestle almost exclusively.

Dan draws him a bath that’s a touch away from scalding (because of course he knows how hot Phil likes his baths) and digs a bath bomb out of the back of the cupboard where it’s a little broken and sad looking, but once it’s in the water, it fills the whole room with the soothing scent of lavender.

He doesn’t _really_ need help undressing; he has functional arms and legs, but there is something so bone deep and comforting about Dan taking his shirt and pants off in that gentle and caring way he does. Dan never fails to make him feel cared for.

Phil hisses as his cold feet breach the hot water, but once his whole body is submerged, save for his knees and head, he feels himself start to unwind. The sound of Dan’s meditation playlist fills the room at a low volume, and Phil doesn’t bat an eye when the lights turn out and he’s bathed in the soft light that only candles can provide.

“I love you,” Phil says once Dan has taken a seat next to the tub. 

“I love you, too,” he replies simply, leaning up over the brim and placing a kiss on Phil’s exposed forehead. 

“I like your hair like this.” 

Dan says it gently, pushing back a flyaway hair. He knows what a touchy subject it is, but for once, Phil doesn’t feel the flood of unease like he normally would. He nuzzles into Dan’s touch and opens his eyes, not even aware they had shut.

“Do you think I should drop the fringe? Become the dad of your dreams and get a quiff?”

Dan snorts a little, making the first smile of the day appear on Phil’s face. “I like the quiff a lot, dad vibes or not, but I fell in love with the fringe, so. I’m happy with either.”

It’s a subtle encouragement; a nudge that says ‘I understand that this is something important to you, but I can’t make the choice for you.’ 

“I think I might. It just feels like it’s holding me back.” It’s more honest than he meant to be, a thought that usually just roams around his head, suddenly out in the open.

“I can see that. You’re not really the same person you were when you started wearing the fringe, so it makes sense that you don’t feel like it’s you anymore.”

He lets the thought wash over him and he’s happy to find that it doesn’t make him feel that buzz of unease almost always under his skin. 

“Yeah. I think you’re right. I’m still kind nervous about changing it, though.”

Dan nods, pulling a thread absentmindedly from his jumper. “You don’t have to change it right away. Maybe just try wearing it up around the house until you’re used to it. And then you can decide if you want to keep it or not. That’s what helped me.” 

He adds that part almost under his breath, and Phil’s chest aches with love for the kind and gentle man next to him. It wasn’t so long ago that Dan was in the same position; at unease with who he was presenting to others, and desperately trying to feel like a more authentic version of himself. 

Phil takes Dan’s hand in his and presses a light kiss to his knuckles. 

“How did I get so lucky?”

Dan gives him a nudge and rolls his eyes, but he’s unable to hide his smile and the way his dimples have started caving in the sides of his cheeks.

“Okay, Mr. Sappy Pants. Get out and let's order some burgers. Riverdale is on tonight.”

“Milkshakes, too?” 

It’s with fond exasperation that Dan agrees and helps Phil out of the slippery water. 

They get Phil dried and dressed and converge on the couch, Phil tucked into Dan’s side as he orders them dinner. It isn’t a perfect day, but Phil knows that as long as Dan is with him, there will probably never be a truly bad day.

**Author's Note:**

> like/reblog on [tumblr](http://tobieallison.tumblr.com/post/182737991971/youre-good-for-my-soul-its-true) if you like :)


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